Sammy Keyes and the Boyz in the Band
by XxTuti17xX
Summary: I deleted this story a while ago because I didn't have time to work on it, bt here you go. Sammy Keyes goes to see The Boyz with Marissa. Even at a concert Sammy can't stay out of trouble.
1. Chapter 1

Sammy Keyes and the Boyz in the Band.

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Sammy Keyes. I decided to copy and paste this story because I didnt know if you guys have read this story. It's not published. But on the Sammy Keyes website, you need to crack the code and you will get parts of the story. There are 8 chapters because it's very short. Hope you like it!**

Chapter 1

Im not big on the mall. Its full of pricey clothes and poseur kids flexing their coolness as they cruise the halls.

Please. Like I dont get enough of that in junior high?

But my best friend Marissa likes the mall. She likes the stores, she likes the food, she likes annihilating electro-bad guys at the the video arcade... All of which add up to me being way more familiar with the Town Center Mall than I'd ever intended.

But that Saturday when we walked through the lower level doors, I knew I should have stayed home. "Marissa," I said, gawking at the sea of kids in front of us, "this is insane!" As we moved toward the crowd, I shook my head and said "I can't believe there are even this many kids in Santa Martina!"

"They're almost all girls too!" Marissa whimpered.

See, like the rest of the mob at the mall, Marissa was dying to get a glimpse of the Boyz- a boy band I had never even heard of until they became, as Miss Pilson said in English class, "Suddenly ubiquitous." They were in the paper, on the news, on flyers that got passed out at school... And why? Because they had chosen our mall as the place to shoot their video and had put out a call for "enthusiastic fans between 12 and 16" who wanted to be "extras" in the video.

Quicker than mosquitoes at sunset, all the girls at school were totally slurping it up, going "They're so hot! I can't believe they're coming here." They even knew their names- Toby, Ace, and Jackson- and seemed to know everything about them. "Ace is into racecars, did you know that?" "Toby's way into pirates- I think that's so... romantic!" "Jackson thinks golden retrievers are the best dogs- I have a golden retriever!" "Toby's birthday is May 12th- my birthday is May 12th!"

Like, Who cares?

But even though the whole thing seemed colossally stupid to me, I let Marissa drag me along. After all, we are best friends, and it was nothing compared to some of the places I've dragged her.

Anyway, Marissa was on her tiptoes whimpering "We'll never even get near the stage!" when a voice behind us snarled "You losers actually think you're going to get to see the band?"

Out of reflex I whipped around, but I already knew who it was. Worse than a regular mall rat, it was Santa Martina's very own Rodent with Rattitude- Heather Acosta. I glanced around for her brother Casey but didn't see him. Which made sense. Like he'd want to see a teeny-bopper boy band?

But right beside Heather like little mimicking mice were Heather's wannabe friends Tenille and Monet.

"Yeah," Tenille said. "You losers think the Boyz are even gonna notice you?" She eyed my high-tops and jeans and snorted.

So I smirked at the gold stud sticking through her bellybutton and said said "Hey, look- you got your brain pierced!" Then I turned to Marissa and muttered "Let's get out of here."

"Might as well" Heather said with a shrug. "You'll never get close enough to even see them." She sneered. "Me? Im gonna meet them." Then she pushed through the crowd going "Excuse me... excuse me... emergency excuse me..."

"Oh!" Marissa growled as Heather weaved through the crowd. "She is the pushiest person on the planet!"

I noticed a group of mall security guards muscling their way through the crowd in front of us, stretching out yellow CAUTION tape. I pointed and said "What do you think those guys are doing?"

Marissa looked, too. "Maybe someone fainted?"

It didn't seem like a medical emergency to me. It seemed like... crowd control. I turned and checked the big glass doors we'd come through. There were security guards shaking their heads at people yanking on the entrance doors. "Marissa," I whispered. "They've locked the mall!"

She turned around saying, "Your kidding."

"See? I think they let too many people in her." I looked back at the guards with the CAUTION tape. "And I'll bet they're going to make everyone on this side of the tape leave."

"But... they cant do that. People are going to riot!"

"They've got do something- there are way too many people in here." I pointed to the crowd. "Look! Heather's already on the other side of the tape."

"Oh!" Marissa growled again, and this time she actually stomped her foot. "She worms her way in and we get kicked out. This is so unfair."

Well, there was no way I was going to let Heather win that easily. I grabbed Marissa by the arm and said, "Come on!"

I was dragging her away from the crowd, but not toward the entrance doors, so she didn't put up too much of a fight. "You've got a plan?" she asked.

I grinned and tilted my head toward an EMPLOYEES ONLY door. "You game?"

Her eyes got wide. "You know how to get over to the rotunda?"

Now, I didn't exactly. But let's just say I've had some uh, experience in places where I dont belong, and the back corridors of the Town Center Mall are definitely on my resume.

So I just grinned some more and said, "How hard can it be?" as I sidled up to the door.

"Well?" she whispered as I tried the knob.

"Be smooth," I said and pulled the door open.

In the blink of an eye, we were both inside.

"Cool!" Marissa whispered, slapping me five.

"Okay," I said. "Let's head up this way and turn right."

The trouble with the back corridors of the mall is that they're a crazy maze. They've got steps in weird places, zigzagging turns and sudden dead ends. Plus, there are doors everywhere, Some locked with a card-reader/combination-keypad-contraption, some not. Some labeled- like closets and storage rooms and stairwells to the roof.

The trick to the back corridors is knowing what direction you want to go and keeping your mind like a compass on that direction. If you don't, you're gonna get totally lost.

So there I was in compass mode, starting to lead Marissa up the corridor, when suddenly the EMPLOYEES ONLY door we'd just come through starts to open.

Marissa and I give each other wide-eyed looks, then dash around the corner and dive through the first door we find that isn't locked. And when we're safely hidden inside, Marissa catches her breath and whispers, "Do you think someone make us?"

"I dont know," I whisper back.

The room we're hiding in, is completely dark, but my nose is picking up the smell of dirty dust mops, ammonia, and ... a faint sort of stinky sulfur odor.

So I figure we're probably in some kind of janitor supply closet, but then through the darkness Marissa and I hear a sound.

A gurgly, angry, scary sound .

And just as my heart tries to shoot the through my chest, Marissa swallows a scream and shoots through the door.

Light from the corridor comes flooding in, and when I turn and see what's making the sound, I know we've just found trouble.

Big, big trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Marissa!" I hiss. "Wait!"

Marissa dives back into the storage room, and points outside at a man in a sharp gray suit and a fluffy black ponytail hurrying along the corridor away from us. When he disappears around the corner I whisper, "Did he see you?"

She shakes her head "I dont think so." She turns to face me. "What made that noise?"

I switch on the light. "Trouble."

Marissa gasps when she sees him. "Holy-

"-shackled security guard?"

"Its a security guard?" Marissa asks, looking closer.

The guy's hands and wrists are bound, and he's blindfolded and gagged and handcuffed to himself like a giant pretzel. He's squirming like crazy and gurgling through his gag, so I try to calm him down by saying ,"Hey, it's okay. We'll untie you. Hold still!"

He quits moving, and while Marissa pulls off the blindfold, I get to work on the knot of his gag. It's a silk scarf, though, so the knot is tiny and tight. But finally I get it loose, and my reward for this? The guy lashes the air with cuss words like he's reciting from The Mall Guard's Guide to Creative Cursing or something.

"Hey, take it easy!" I tell him. Then I do a kind of mental double take. "Wait a minute- did you say girls tied you up?"

The guard stops moving and stares at me. Then at Marissa "Im an idiot!" he says "A complete idiot!" He starts squirming like crazy, cursing away again, but finally gives up and lies there, panting, "Okay. What is it going to take for you not to spill this to anyone."

Now, im thinking Spill what to who? but apparently Marissa's caught on quick. She tilts her head at him. "How about you get us backstage?"

"Backstage?" the guard says "What excuse am I gonna give for that? It's press only, no fans."

Marissa shrugs "So tell them we're reporters for the school paper." She grins "A small price to pay for us not telling a soul that you got hogtied by some pansy girls."

"They weren't pansies, they were Amazons."

"Amazons?" I ask him, and you better believe I'm having trouble not busting up.

"Yeah, smartlips," he grumbles, "Amazons"

But Marissa says, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. You're supposed to be protecting the biggest act to ever hit town, and you let yourself got tied up and then rescued by girls?"

Now, usually it's just me sassing authority, but I guess the thought of getting up close to The Boyz was bringing out Marissa's brash side. And she did have a point. Even hogtied like he was, you could tell- the guy was probably over six feet tall and at least two hundred pounds.

And who's ever heard of Amazons roaming the Santa Martina mall?

"All right, all right!" he says then shakes his wrists. "Just get me out of this!"

So I retrieve the key from his pocket, and while I'm unlocking the handcuffs, the guard mutters, "They took my radio, they took my I.D., took my keycard... took me for a chump"

Once he's completely untied, he leads us through the back corridors fast, Left turn, righ turn, up stairs, down stairs, right turn, left turn... and my mental compass was just starting to feel hopelessly disoriented, when he stops at an unmarked door and faces us with a scowl.

"Is this where the Boyz are?" Marissa whispers.

He just keeps on scowling as he jabs at the combination keypad and unlocks the door.

We follow him inside and find ourselves in a mini cop locker room/ office/ kitchenette. "Do not make yourselves at home," he says, sliding into a chair behind a computer, He types like crazy on the keyboard, studies the screen, then murmurs, "One-twenty-seven and one-twenty-eight? They think they're the green room?" He actually grins at us and says, "This might not be so bad after all."

So as he types some more on the keyboard, I ask, "What are one-twenty-seven and one-twenty-eight?"

"Doors on the first level." He laughs, and a all of a sudden he seems like a completely different guy. A friendly guy."Instead of the band, they found a boiler room!" He gives the keyboard one last jab and says, "And that should take care of that."

"You deactivated their keycard?"

"Smart girl," he says as he rolls open a desk drawer and pulls out a new keycard. And after a few minutes of typing information into the computer, he slides the card through a card-reader ad says, "They are out of business, and I am once again in business."

Now it hits me that this guy might not even know that there's a huge mob of kids out in the mall. I mean, what if he'd been tied up for an hour? He'd have no idea. So I say, "Uh... are you aware that the mall i spacked with kids? And that other guards are out there trying to make a bunch of them leave?"

"Am I aware?" He snorts and hurries to retrieve a walkie-talkie radio out of a locker. "Oh, yeah." He keys his radio and says, "Sam-One to Unit Seven."

A second later the radio crackles, "Seven."

"Do you have a status report- lower level east side?"

"Everything? Code Four, boss," the radio says "It was touch and go there for a few minutes but we did what you said and we've pretty much got it under control."

Marissa and I bug our eyes out at each other. We'd found the security boss in the supply room? No wonder he didn't want anyone to know!

"What's the ETA?" the Guard Boss says into his radio.

"We should be ready by fourteen hundred," comes crackling back.

"Ten-four."

"Copy that."

"Well!" he says to us, all jovial now. "This situation's taken a complete one-eighty. First I'm grilled by the mall manager for tellin' him we didn't need to hire extra security-like I was supposed to know every kid in the country was going to show up here? Then I get chewed out by the fire marshal and the record label guy and the band's manager. And then on my way out to sneak a quick smoke I get ambushed by Amazons in the stairwell!" He grins as he leads us to the door. "This day had CANNED written all over it, but fifteen minutes in a closet and hey, the world's a peachy place again."

"Fifteen minutes?" I ask him. "That's all you were in there?"

He pulls the door closed behind us and says, "Alone? Yeah. I actually thought you kids were the Amazons, coming back for something." He leads us down the hall saying, "Hey, I'm really sorry about my behavior before- I owe you two big-time."

So we followed him through the back corridors until we came to a door with a brass CONFERENCE plaque on it. The Guard Boss hesitated at the door, then said, "I have your word, right? Not a hint of what happened to anyone."

Marissa and I nodded.

"All right, then. Try to act like student reporters, okay?"

We nodded again and he opened the door.

It was time to meet The Boyz.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The first thing I noticed when the Guard Boss led us into the conference room was the tension in the air. It wasn't being acutely perceptive, or anything-it was like a blowtorch coming off the adults in the room. They were talking to each other in loud voices, looking stressed out and totally spun up.

I was about to tell Marissa, Look! There's that guy we saw in the hallway! because recognized his gray suit and fluffy ponytail, but just then Marissa squeals, "There they are!" and points out The Boyz sitting near a table with deli trays. The three of them are looking pretty sullen, and not much like rockstars, but it doesn't seem to matter to Marissa. She starts bouncing up and down, going, "I cant believe it! I cant be-lieve it!"

Then the Guard Boss announces, "Good News!" and the room falls quiet as people turn to stare at him. "Everything's under control," he says. "We should be ready to start the event in about 15 minutes."

Now, the funny thing is, once he leaves, no one comes up to us and says, "Hey, who are you and why are you here?" The adults just go back to blowtorching, and The Boyz kick back in their chairs like Yeah, yeah, whatever.

So after a few seconds of just standing there, Marissa whispers, "Come on!" and leads me to where The Boyz are sitting. "Hi!" she says, and let me tell you, she is sounding way too perky for my comfort.

"Hey," the three of them say. giving each other knowing grins. Like, Are we babe magnets or what?

So they've said one collective word, and already I hate them. But Marissa gushes, "Im Marissa, and this is my friend Sammy , and we're really, really honored to meet you!"

Honored? Honored?

Anyway, all of Santa Martina already knows that the one with the hoop earring is Toby, the guy with the black close-cropped curls is Jackson, and the one with the spiky bleached hair and million-dollar smile is Ace. But they go ahead and tell us anyway.

"Im Toby."

"Im Jackson."

"Im Aaaaccce."

Ace is trying to be all, you know, suave, but what strikes me is how small he is. And I'm totally amazed that this little guy could have so much power over the girls at my school. They thought Toby and Jackson were cute, but Ace? They got ridiculously swoony over Ace.

Then we hear a high-pitched voice singing, "And I... will love... you... forever!" Ace backhands Toby and growls, "Shut him up, would you?" So Toby reaches over a chair and swats, saying, "Knock it off, Evan!"

A kid about ten or eleven with bright brown eyes and blonde hair pops up from behind the chair and pulls off some headphones "What?" he asks.

"You were doing it again," Toby says through his teeth, then he turns to us and says, "Evan wants to be in the group-real bad."

Evan smiles at us and says, "I know all the moves... all the words..." he spins around "...I'm good!"

Now it's funny- if Ace had said the same thing I would've thought, What a jerk. But Evan was so cute that Marissa and I couldn't help laughing, "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah!" he says and starts singing, "Girl, you know I always think about you, Wanna build my world around you..."

"Enough!" Ace snaps, making Evan dive for cover. Then Ace turns to Marissa, and asks, "So how'd you chicks rate a security escort backstage?" He gives her a lopsided grin. "You the mayor's daughter or something?"

"The mayor's daughter?" Marissa asks, and you can tell- she doesn't know what she's saying she's lost in his million-dollar smile.

So I butt in with, "No, we're reporters from our school's paper."

"Awwwwgh!" Ace and the other two groan, flopping back in their chairs. Then Jackson says, "Sorry, but they just kicked all the reporters out of here."

Then a deep voice behind me says, "What's going on here?" So I whip around and myself face-to-face with a woman wearing tight black pants, a bell-sized blouse and hoop earrings so big, trained seals could dive through. "Well?" she asks, and I don't know if it's too many cigarettes or what, but this woman's got the voice of a cement mixer.

"It's okay, Vanessa," Toby hurries to say. "They won a contest at their school. They're here for a quick meet' n 'greet."

Marissa smiles at him like, Thanks, and then Ace picks up the thread, saying, "It's cool, Vanessa. Just let 'em hang."

Vanessa looks skeptical, but she switches gears, rasping, "Okay- we've finally got things squared away. Ace, we're going to shoot you doing lead first-"

"But why?" Jackson asks-getting up, and let me tell you- he's not happy.

"Easy, Jackson," Vanessa says. And then, like she's explaining something to a kindergartner she adds, " Everyone's agreed, Okay?"

"But, I'm the one singing lead on the demo!"

"And we'll shoot with you singing lead, too," Vanessa says. "We'll get tape of everything."

"Yeah, chill, would you?" Ace says to him. "So I'm first, so what?"

Toby puts his hand on Jackson's arm and says, "Just go with it- you know it's going to be you in the end anyway."

"Then why are we doing this?"

"Because it ain't all about you, dawg." Ace says.

Jackson squints at him, "Me? Whose dad's here, throwing his weight around? Who's like, in the face of every reporter, cutting in on every answer? Who's-?"

A man I hadn't seen before appears behind Ace, He's got brown, slicked back hair, and is wearing a dark blue banded-collar shirt and black jeans. His belt is out a couple notches from it's worn position- like he's recently put on a few pounds- and seeing him makes Jackson clam up.

"Here you go," the man handing Ace a can of soda. "Ice cold cherry cola." He gives a friendly snort. "I finally found a machine, but it wasn't easy."

Now, this guys voice is like the opposite of Vanessa's. Instead of deep and growly, it's high and squeaky. Like his collar is splitting his vocal cords into bass and treble, and only the high notes are getting out.

"Thanks, Dad." Ace says, swabbing a rim full of water off the can with a napkin before cracking it open. He grins at Marissa. "Gotta have my cherry cola."

Meanwhile, a sweet looking lady with a total doll face and a blonde bob thats banded back with a red scarf has grabbed Evan and moved in close to Toby, while a woman with very short graying black hair and dangly wooden earrings has stepped beside Jackson.

"We're all right- everything's all right," Vanessa says to the hovering adults. "Tell your kids that we're all on the same page, would you?"

Toby's mom nods, but Jackson's mom says, "I know I agreed, but I'm with my son- I don't understand why we're switching everything around."

"I thought we'd settled this an hour ago," Ace's dad says.

Vanessa glances over her shoulder at the guy with the fluffy ponytail that we'd seen in the corridor. "We're doing it this way," she says dropping her voice to a guttural whisper, "because Barry Rich from Warner is interested in his options."

"So what are you saying?" Jackson asks. "He thinks Ace should sing lead?" He points at Ace's dad. "That's probably because he's bending his ear nonstop since he got here!"

"Look," Vanessa says. "You hired me to take this act to the next level and that's what I'm doing. I've got you a mall full of screaming girls and a record exec. to watch you perform. Don't blow you!" Her voice softens but it still sounds like a cement mixer when she says, "You'll each get a shot, so when it's your turn just give it your all. Eyes on the prize, boys. Ma-jor re-cord deal. Fame. Fortune. She shoots a look our way. "Girls."

I pull Marissa to the side, muttering, "I've seen enough. All this hype and they don't even have a record deal?"

"But... but they must have... something!"

"Have you seen a CD?"

We look at The Boyz. They've each gone to their separate corners to huddle with their parents while Vanessa's gone back to talk to the Ponytail and some bald guy who's with him.

Marissa blinks at me. "But they played one of their songs on the news..."

It was the same song, over and over. They have one song. No CD. No deal. This whole thing is all just a bunch of hype."

"But... I didn't even get a picture yet!"

"A picture?" But rather than argue, I stick out of my hand and say. "Fine. Give me the camera, I'll take the picture."

So she digs her camera out of her bag, and right then Ace appears, giving Marissa a coy little smile. "Sorry about that buzz kil. But the show'll be sizzlin' You wanna watch from backstage?"

"Really?" Marissa gasps. "That'd be great!"

Now, for Marissa I choke back my extreme nausea and say, "Mind if I take a picture?"

"Cool!" he says, then puts his arm around Marissa and gets cheesy for the camera.

Ace is several years older than Marissa, but he's only about a quarter inch taller. So when I'm done snapping the photo and he says, "Did either of you happen to see some really big girls out in the corridor?" I almost blurt out, Dude, anyone older'n ten is gonna seem large to you! But Marissa gushes, "You mean the Amazons?"

I shoot Marissa a look to remind her that we were sworn to secrecy about large ladies tying up guard bosses, but it's too late. The room falls quiet, and suddenly everyone is moving our way.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"You... you saw them?" Vanessa asks, zipping in closer to Marissa and me.

"Well we-" Marissa catches herself and looks at me all wide-eyed, like, Oh no! What do I say now?

Everyone's staring at us. The Boyz, their parents, even the record execs. Toby comes forward, saying, "Those knockouts you were talking about? They're for real"

Jackson looks at Ace. "I thought you were jivin' us, man."

"Who are they?" Marissa asks.

Vanessa's eyebrows knit together, and for the first time since we entered the room she looks worried. She take a deep breath and rasps, "They must be professional stalkers."

"Professional stalkers?" I ask. "Your saying they get paid?"

Her head snaps to face me. "No! I am most definitely not saying that. I'm saying they're apparently very good at what they do, that's all."

"And what they do is stalk Ace?" I ask. "Or will any old celebrity do?"

"Who are you people?" Vanessa says, checking her watch. "Of course I mean Ace! Where have you been? Girls are crazy for him!"

Jackson glowers and cuts a look at Toby, who shrugs, shakes his head and looks down.

Then Ace shoots Marissa a quicker pucker-up, which makes me want to deck the pun. He may think he's the hottest thing since jalapenos, but there's no way I'm going to let him mess with my friend.

"So?" Ace's dad asks, getting things back on track. "Where did you say you saw them?" Then he turns to Ponytail and says, "Remember those love-sick fans I told you were after Ace?"

The Ponytail nods, then asks, "Did you call them the Amazons?"

I glance at Marissa, then say, "Uh... we actually only, you know, heard about them."

"From?" Ponytail asks.

I shrug. "You know- people outside."

"Ah," He says.

"It's true!" Ace says to the Ponytail. "They're Amazons, and they follow me everywhere I go! They're crazy!"

"Crazy for Ace," Vanessa says with a laugh. "I'm not sure what would happen if they ever got a hold of a him. Apparently these are big, big fans!"

A man pops his head inside the conference room. "They're ready for you." he calls, and all of a sudden everyone is collecting things and hustling for the door.

Marissa and I follow behind the others, but as we approach the doorway, I stop dead in my tracks.

"What?" Marissa asks.

I sniff the air. "Do you smell that?" I whisper. "Sulfur?" Rotten Eggs?"

She sniffs, too and her whole face pinches up. "Oooh, gross! Who farted?"

"Who farted...?" I blink, then charge out the door, looking up and down the corridor.

"What are you doing?" Marissa asks.

"Is that guard boss around here anywhere?"

She looks, too. "No..."

I hurry up the corridor, following after The Boyz and their entourage.

"Sammy!" Marissa whispers, chasing after me. "Why are you spun up all of a sudden?"

"Because," I whisper back, "that sulfur-egg smell? I also smelled it in the supply closet." Marissa didn't say anything so I added, "Where we found the Guard Boss?"

Finally she whispers, "So your saying..."

"So I'm singing that one of the people we were just in that conference room with was also in the supply closet tying up the Guard Boss!"

Her face scrunches up, "Because you recognize the smell of their farts?"

I shrug. "Eau de Pee-yew?"

"Oh, please! And besides," she says, nodding her nose at the group in front of us, "the Guard Boss said he was tied up by Amazons and non of them is what I'd call an Amazon."

"But I know what I smelled. It's a very dis-stink-tive odor."

She laughs. "So what are you going to do? Sniff 'em out?"

I laugh, too. "I think I'll leave that up to the Guard Boss."

Anyway, we followed the others through the a corridor door and into a curtained off area inside the rotunda. We could hear that there was a big, crowd out in the mall, and when Marissa and I peeked through the curtains, we both said, " Holy smokes!" From store to store, from the barricades in front of the stage to as far as we could see, the mall was packed with teenybopper girls.

Marissa whispered, "I can't believe this is the mall," and she was right-the stage looked like a real stage with big speakers, lights, and mic stands wrapped in tons of scarves, the guards keeping kids back looked like real concert security, and the kids in the crowd had signs reading THE BOYZ RULZ and WE LOVE THE BOYZ and HE'S MY ACE OF HEARTS.

All of a sudden Vanessa pulls us back, saying , I don't really know why you girls are here, but do me a favor-stay out of the way and clear of this aisle."

"Where can we watch from?" Marissa asks.

"Over here," she says, then leads us around back to the other side of the stage where we can't see diddly-squat.

The minute she's gone, Marissa says, "I'm not staying here!" and moves so she can see The Boyz fighting in the wings, getting ready to go onstage.

Now, Marissa may be into watching The Boyz, but personally, I find everything else that's going on much more interesting. And even though I told Marissa that I'd leave the "sniffing" out to the Guard Boss, I can't help wondering which of the people in the conference room might be in cahoots with Amazons. Who had wanted the Guard Boss out of the way? And why? Had he seen something? Heard something?

Smelled something?

Well, okay. Forget that. But somebody had gagged him and tied him and tossed him in a closet. If it was someone who already had access to The Boyz, what was the point?

So while Marissa was watching Ace, Toby, and Jackson, I focused on the people backstage. Evan had his headphones on, and was mouthing words as he danced, And I was actually amazed-Toby's little brother had moves!

The Ponytail had his eyes Vanessa as she checked her watch and then ducked out into the corridor. Ace's was trying to use his cell phone, but apparently couldn't get through because he looked very irritated, then finally snapped it close and put it away. Toby's and Jackson's moms were acting like total gossip girls, their heads together, their eyes shifting around.

The someone onstage announced, "Hellllllloooooo, Santa Martina!" and suddenly Vanessa was back, all over The Boyz, giving them last minute instructions, shooing Ace's dad away.

The announcer went on, "As you all know, this is a video shoot, so The Boyz will be performing one of their songs sev-er-al times. We need you stay energized! Create a vibe! Sing along! And just because this is a video shoot, it doesn't mean the boys will be lip-synching. As a matter of fact we're gonna mix it up a little for you! You will have the bonus treat of hearing each of the boys get two turns at singing lead, so help 'em out! Show them you love 'em Keep it pumpin' out there!"

The crowd cheered and whooped while the announcer got some instruction from a man at the mixboard. Then the announcer said into the microphone, "And now ladies and gentlemen . . . They've been called 'Wickedly talented.' 'Smooth.' And just plain 'Hot!' Pleasewelcome Ace, Toby, and Jackson—The Boyz!"

The mall went wild as music started pumping through the sound system. Girls were screaming. Shouting. _Wailing_.

Marissa grabbed my arm and jumped up and down, saying, "Isn't this exciting? Isn't this so exciting?"

We couldn't see that much _bigger _excitement was lurking in the wings.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It takes a certain level of cunning to work forward through a crowd. For example, if you're pushing ahead saying, "Hey! Let me through! I want to get up front and see the band!" well, nobody's going to budge. They'll push your sorry tush right back where it belongs.

But if you're nudging through, going, "Excuse me . . . excuse me . . . emergency, excuse me," in a sweet little voice full of desperation and despair, people will let you through. And if they ever realize that you were really just conning your way to the front of the crowd, chances are they won't physically throw you out. They'll probably just grumble to their friends about you while you ignore them and enjoy an excellent view of the show.

Not that I would ever employ such tactics. Well, unless there was something serious at stake, and then it'd be more like, Excuse me . . . I think I'm gonna barf!

But Marissa and I know somebody whose every breath is inhaled in fortification of lies—

Heather Acosta.

So I guess I shouldn't have been surprised to spot Heather, Tenille, and Monet right up front against the crowd-control blockade when The Boyz hit the stage.

Anyway, all the girls in the mall—including the three of them—start screaming as the backing track pumps through the sound system and Ace grabs the center mic off its stand.

Toby and Jackson snap up the other two mics, and the three of them start dancing a poppy hip-hop routine, trading lines as they sing, "_Girl, you know I always think about you, Wanna build my world around you. Girl can't believe_ _you've gone away, There's so much I have to say to you girl..."_

Marissa is right beside me in the wings, absolutely swooning. And really, I just don't get it. But instead of saying, Gee, Marissa, get a grip, I point to Heather and her friends and say, "Look at those idiots."

Tenille especially is in a state, crying and reaching and looking like she's either going to dive for the stage or faint as Ace sings, "__And I . . . will love . . . you . . . forever, will ne-ver _be better . . . , until I have you back in my arms . . ."___

Marissa's face totally falls when she sees them. "They got all the way to the front? How'd they do that?"

I grin at her. "How'd __you __get backstage?"

She blinks at me, then breaks into a smile. "Oh, yeah."

Then I hear a voice behind me talking over the music, saying, "I wouldn't call them hip-hop."

I turn and see that it's the record label guys, talking to each other.

"We knew that," the Ponytail says back to the bald guy. "But I'm not getting a bead on their style, either."

"Like, what's up with those scarves on the mic stands?" the bald guy says. "They think they're Aerosmith?"

All of a sudden Ace's dad joins them, his voice squeaking, "What'd I tell you? They're crazy for him!"

Vanessa appears with two angry boy-band moms by her side. "Aaron, stay out of it!" she says.

But as she's dragging him away from the record label guys, Ace's dad's face pinches up and he waves at the air, saying, "You've really got to get that under control!"

Vanessa's eyes pop. "It wasn't me!"

Then the bald guy swipes the air and pinches his face, and the Ponytail grimaces, too, saying, "Good God—who's __doing __that?"

And then I smell it, too—another rotten egg stink bomb.

Marissa, though, doesn't seem to notice. "They are so tight!" she gushes as The Boyz do some spinny move. "Unbelievable!"

So okay. I have to admit—they are good dancers. And Ace is a good singer. And yeah, the guys are really cute. But still. The whole thing seemed so . . . fabricated. So when they start the song up again with Ace singing lead for a second time, my mind wanders off to something real.

The stink bomber.

Did this new bombing eliminate anyone from the possibilities of people who'd been in the supply closet with the Amazons? I shook my head. Amazons—brother. For rabid fans, they sure were making themselves scarce. But wait a minute—what if the Guard Boss had—

"Sammy?" Marissa was shaking my arm.

"Huh?"

"I said, let's go back over where we were."

She was pulling me toward the area Vanessa had specifically told us to keep clear, so I said, "But we're not supposed to be here!"

She turned to me and dropped her jaw. "You? Following rules?" She glanced over her shoulder and said, "Come on, she's not even looking," then dragged me along.

We could see a lot more from our new vantage point. Two video cameramen were moving around below the stage. One was shooting the crowd, one The Boyz. And there was another cameraman up on some kind of crane, shooting footage from above.

There were also big press cameras in a cordoned off section to the side and when Marissa saw them she said, "Ohmygod, what am I thinking?" and scrambled through her bag for her camera.

So _click, click, click _she starts taking pictures of The Boyz. And with each shot she steps out of the wings a little farther. And I'm just thinking, Uh-oh. She's gonna get herself booted, when I notice a very scary sight.

Heather Acosta noticing us.

I yank Marissa back into the wings, but I can tell that Heather's mind is already going _click, click, click _just like Marissa's camera: they If those losers are back there, why can't _I _be back there? Better yet—why can't I be _up _there? They think they're so hot getting backstage, well what's stopping me from getting _on _stage? A couple of barricades? An unarmed guard? For_get _it!

And then, like a Vegas act gone terribly wrong, the Tyrannical Tiger of Santa Martina unleashes herself, clawing over the barricade and around the guard. And Heather's just about reached the stage when The Boyz hit the last line, "_And I . . . will love . . . you . . . forever_," holding a pose with their arms out to the audience.

Then a whole bunch of things happen right in a row: Guards dive for Heather and keep her from climbing onstage. Press cameras click like crazy. The Boyz eat up the moment, then prance behind the curtain. And then, right near us alongside the stage, a narrow door opens and two of the biggest, most beautiful women I've ever seen step out into the rotunda.

And before Marissa and I can cry, "Amazons!" they're charging our way.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Get security!" Vanessa shouts as two Amazons appear through the side door near us and two more blast in from another direction—through the corridor door. Then she rasps, "Stop them! Don't let them get Ace!" as she jumps out of the way so they can totally get by.

Not that I can blame her—these girls are huge! They're wearing black pants and black turtlenecks and thick fake eyelashes. And in the two seconds I've got before the ones from the side door reach us, what flashes through my mind is, Wait, _don't _stop them. Let them get some perspective! I mean, Ace is bite-sized compared to these women. Seeing him on stage and worshiping him from afar had obviously not given them an understanding of, you know, proportion.

But then I see Marissa digging in, putting her forearms up like she's a blocker for the 49ers. So oh brother, all right. I can't just let her fend off Amazons alone. But before I can get into position, the Amazons split up. They go every which way, zigzagging around Vanessa, the Ponytail, Toby, the moms, Jackson, right for Ace.

"Run!" Ace's dad shouts, cowering to the side. But Ace just stands there, eyes wide, frozen in place. And before anyone can stop them, two of the Amazons pick him up and carry him off through the back corridor door.

The other two Amazons pin themselves against the closed door, and Ace's dad tries frantically to move them aside, but the big girls just giggle like he's tickling them.

"Security!" Vanessa screams. "Where's security!"

Like he's been cued on a sitcom, the Guard Boss comes skidding backstage. "Where are they?" he says, all out of breath. Then he sees the two Amazons holding Ace's dad hostage in front of the doorway. "You!" he shouts and charges toward them.

But the Amazons shove Ace's dad into the Guard Boss and escape through the corridor door. And then somehow the Guard Boss trips over Ace's dad, and it seems to take him forever to untangle himself before he finally gets through the door to chase the Amazons.

By now everyone everywhere is frenzied, darting around, shouting at each other. And it feels like we're in the middle of some crazy remix, going nowhere as we're scratched back and forth on a turntable. But then all at once my brain spins free. "Marissa!" I whisper.

"Remember how Vanessa told us to keep that aisle clear?"

"So?"

"Maybe so the Amazons could come through?"

"But Sammy, why?"

I shrug. "I . . . I'm not sure."

The place is now swarming with reporters and all sorts of people we've never seen before. And Ace's dad is zooming around squeaking, "My son's been abducted by Amazons! Somebody do something! My son's been abducted by Amazons!" while Vanessa tries to calm him down, rasping, "He'll be fine! They won't hurt him, they adore him! Aaron, please, it'll be all right!"

The moms are having an intense conversation with the other two boys, and little Evan's bouncing all around them, totally excited.

The record label guys are standing a few yards away from the corridor door, laughing. Oh, they're trying not to be obvious about it, but believe me, they're finding big humor in this chaos.

So after watching the scene a few minutes, and after seeing more and more people crowd backstage with no one really seeming to know what to do, I whisper to Marissa, "You want to check out that side door with me?"

Marissa hesitates, but then nods and follows me away from everyone else, to the small door we'd seen the first two Amazons come through.

The crowd out in the mall is very agitated. And although there are now real policemen in addition to the mall security guards, there doesn't seem to be a real plan. Kids are shouting, "What's going on?" "Are they coming back out?" "Was Ace really abducted by Amazons?" And since security is so wrapped up in crowd control, nobody seems to notice Marissa and me as we open the side door and slip inside.

We found ourselves in a narrow hallway of _pipes_. They were mounted on the wall nearly floor to ceiling, and went off in both directions.

As I closed the door, I felt something soft and smooth on the knob. And since I couldn't see very well because the only light came from a louvered vent at the top of the door, I followed the soft smoothness around the knob and down its length until I recognized what it was. "Marissa!" I whispered. "There's a scarf around this handle. A silk scarf!" I unwrapped it and held it in the faint stream of light. "Look!"

"But . . . what does that mean?"

I wagged it in the air. "It's a marker! It told the Amazons that this was the door to go through."

Our eyes were adjusting to the darkness now, and we looked up and down the narrow hallway. "So?" Marissa said. "Which way did they come?"

"I wish we had a flashlight," I said, because really, I couldn't see more than five feet in front of me. "Hey!"

"What?" she asked, all wide-eyed.

"Let me have your camera!"

"Why?" she asked, digging it out of her bag.

"Is there a way to make the flash work without taking a picture?"

She turned it on and handed it over. "I don't think so . . ."

I held it up high above my head, facing down the space to my right. Then _click_, I took a picture. The flash activated, lighting up the hallway, illuminating a bunch of pipes along the wall and a turn to the left only a few yards ahead.

I faced the other direction and did the same thing, and this time the flash illuminated a long straight passage with pipes and…

"Scarves!" we both cried. They were tied to the pipes, one about every ten feet. "But why would they follow scarves in the dark?" Marissa asked as we made our way along the pipes.

"Why wouldn't they just use a flashlight?"

"Maybe they didn't happen to have a flashlight," I said. "Or maybe they were following a trail someone else set up."

There were high vents every now and then that did let in a little light. But there were also Ys in the passageway where pipes split off or joined in, going up and over, then down the other side and further along the wall. Traveling through this pipe maze was worse than traveling through the main corridors. It was cramped and dark and sweaty. And talk about losing your mental compass! If it hadn't been for the scarves we would have been totally lost.

Then Marissa said, "Wow, some of these pipes are really warm," and two steps later

I stopped dead in my tracks. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asked.

I spun around to face her. "Why didn't I think of that before?"

"Think of what?"

"Hot pipes! Why are they hot? Hot water! Where's the water come from? The boiler room! That's where these scarves are leading us!"

"To the boiler room?"

"The Guard Boss said that's where they'd used his keycard, remember? So maybe that's where they've stashed Ace."

"Stashed him? Why would they stash him? And in a _boiler _room?"

I laughed. "Maybe they want to show him what being hot really means?"

"Very funny."

"Well come on. This whole thing is just too bizarre. I mean, why are large, beautiful women after a shrimp like Ace?"

"He's not _that _short. . . ."

I snorted. "Well, how come they're huge fans of a guy who is, at this point in his career, a nobody? How do they even know him? And the real question is, how did they come to follow silk scarves through a sweaty maze of pipes?" I turned to face her. "Obviously this whole thing was set up."

"By . . . ?"

"By whoever tied up the Guard Boss."

"Because . . . ?"

I started walking again, and now I could see a door at the end of the line. "I don't think it's for ransom. I think someone wanted Ace out of the picture."

"But . . . who?"

I tried the door. It was unlocked.

So I turned to Marissa and whispered, "It could be we're about to find out."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Aaargh!" Marissa and I both cried as we opened the door and found ourselves face to face with Amazons. We jumped back into the safety of the pipe maze, but before the door closed, a deep, growly voice commanded, "Stop!" and the door crashed open.

My mind flashed with the vision of us being chased through a sweaty maze of pipes by massive women in tight black pants and manly voices. But when I looked over my shoulder it wasn't Amazons chasing us.

It was the Guard Boss.

"Girls! Come back," he shouted.

So Marissa and I had a split-second eyeball conversation, then screeched to a halt and headed back. But then, as we're stepping inside the boiler room, the Guard Boss says, "Wait a minute—you two are in on this, aren't you?"

"Us?" we both say, getting all wide-eyed. "No!"

"What else would you be doing back there?" he says, pointing into the dark hallway of the pipe maze as his eyes narrow into little slits. "And now that I think of it, how else would you ever have found me in that janitor's closet?"

"We were hiding from someone!"

"Oh, yeah?" he says like we're a couple of lying brats. "Like who?"

"Like that record label guy with the fluffy ponytail and gray suit," I tell him. Then I point behind him. "Uh, say bye-bye to your lovely ladies."

"Wha—" he whirls around, but the Amazons have already escaped into the main corridor through a different, larger door. The Guard Boss charges after them, but the Amazons have disappeared without a trace.

When he's done barking orders into his radio, I ask him, "Did you get anything out of them?"

"No! They act like they don't speak English! I dragged them here hoping the other two had taken the boy here." He pulls a scarf out of his pocket. "I found this crammed in the door to keep it from latching, so I know they intended to come back here, but I don't know why."

He squints at me. "And what were _you _doing in the pipe gallery?"

"You call that sweaty maze a _gallery_?"

"Quit avoiding the question—what were you doing back there?"

This is what I hate about being a kid. Adults give you zero credit for having any brains and all the credit for causing any trouble. Maybe kids are just convenient targets—I don't know.

What I do know is that when an adult is squinting at me like _I'm _the cause of his troubles,

I can't seem to help rolling my eyes and saying something sarcastic.

So I rolled my eyes and said, "Playing hide and go seek with scarves."

"What?" he says, squinting at me even harder.

Good ol' Marissa steps in, saying, "We went in a door to the side of the stage that we saw two of the Amazons come _out _of, and we discovered a trail of scarves—like that one?" She points to the scarf in his hand. "Like the ones they bound and gagged you with? We followed them and they led us here."

He blinks at Marissa. "A trail of _scarves_?"

So I tell him, "Look, you can waste your time following them back to the stage door if you don't believe us, or we can put our heads together and try to figure this out." Then, before he can say anything, I add, "Ace being hauled off by Amazons was masterminded by someone in the group's entourage."

He hesitates, then asks, "What makes you think that?"

Marissa and I glance at each other, because we both know that the answer will totally blow our credibility.

"Tell me!"

So Marissa delicately clears her throat and says, "Uh . . . flatus of the intestines?"

"What?"

I decide to try a different approach. "You said you were in the stairwell when you ran into the Amazons, right?"

"Right."

"How many of them were there?"

"Three."

"Were they coming up or going down?"

"I was going up, they were coming down."

"It was one of those jog-around-stairwells, right? Could anyone else have been around the corner?"

"Maybe . . ."

"So how did they ambush you?"

"They physically stopped me, blindfolded me, then tied me up, and carried me off."

I look him right in the eyes. "At any time during this whole thing, did you hear anyone speak?"

He nods. "They argued about what to do with me."

"Was there a man's voice? Or were they all female."

"All female." Then he grumbles, "It wouldn't have been so mortifying if there'd been a man. . . ."

"So they did speak English?"

"Yes! Those two were just pretending not to understand me when I caught them and brought them here."

"How about odors. Do you remember—"

"Oh God, yes!" His face pinches up. "They threw me in the closet and honest to God I thought they were fumigating me."

I smile at him and say, "_That _was flatus of the intestines."

"Huh?"

"Intestinal gas."

He blinks at me. "You're saying that was a _fart_?"

Just then his radio crackles to life. He whips it off his belt and says, " _Sam-One_," into it, then listens as the person on the other end says, "_We've monitored all exits, no sign of them.___

The M M's going to shut this thing down. We told him we had strict orders from you not to, but he's heading to the stage now to pull the plug_."_

"_I'm on it,_" the Guard Boss says, then signs off and starts talking to us over his shoulder, like of course we'll be tagging along. "So you think one of the people_with _the band is behind this?"

"Right. They probably didn't want you to see them with the Amazons." Then I ask, "You said they stole your I.D., your radio, your key card—anything else? I mean, how did they know about the pipe gallery, or that it led from the boiler room to a door by the stage?"

He scowls and shakes his head. "They took my I.D. bundle—among other things, it's got a mini map of all the levels—including the pipe gallery."

"Okay," I say, chasing him up one short set of stairs and down another, "so the real question is why did someone want Ace out of the way?" I start thinking out loud: "Love? I doubt it. Money? What money? They must've spent a _bundle _setting this video shoot up and now the plug's getting pulled?"

But then Marissa says, "How about hate? Toby and Jackson don't seem to like Ace, and neither do their moms. All that tension about Ace doing lead first. And hey, did you notice? Toby's mom's got a silk scarf in her hair!" She was hurrying along right beside me, sort of panting. "Bad timing, though, 'cause it looks like Ace got to be first _and _last, huh?"

A little tickle ran down my spine. "Marissa!" I gasped, but before she could answer, I took off running.

I needed to get backstage.

Fast.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Talking to Vanessa was a risk, but at this point I saw nothing to lose. Besides, the Guard Boss hadn't heard any male voices and there was no mistaking hers—there was nothing feminine about it.

So when I spotted her backstage, I immediately went over and dragged her aside. "What are you doing?" she snapped.

The Ponytail and his sidekick moved in close, so I whispered frantically in her ear. And when I stepped back, her eyes were huge and I could see the wheels in her head moving faster and faster. "That makes perfect sense," she said, and her voice was steady, but boy, were her eyes on fire. Then she said, "And you know what? I know exactly what I'm going to do." She looked around angrily, shouting, "Evan! Where's Evan?"

Evan appeared and said, "Yes ma'am?"

"You're on! Right now! Toby! Jackson! Get in position—Evan's front and center!'

"Me?" Evan said, pointing at himself. Then he pumped his fist and cried, "Yes!"

"_Evan _is?" Toby and Jackson asked together.

"Just do it! Now!" She turned to the soundman. "Karl—hit it!"

The music started, and Ace's dad broke away from a group of reporters, saying, "Hey, what are you doing?" He saw Evan going onstage and shouted, "Don't tell me you're putting that runt in for my Ace?"

"He's no runt," she said with a glare. "And I've seen him do this enough times to know he's going to be great out there."

"I can't _believe _this," Ace's dad whined over the music. "My son's been abducted and you're going on with the show?"

The reporters were all around us now. And I think Vanessa was getting worried that she'd just made a huge mistake because she turned to me and said, "You'd better not be wrong," then put both hands up like, don't ask me! and distanced herself from me.

"Wrong about what?" all the reporters asked me. But rather than sputter out an explanation,

I shrugged and said, "Follow me."

On my way into the corridor I grabbed the Guard Boss and whispered, "You said you were sneaking out to have a smoke when the Amazons ambushed you, right?"

He nodded.

"And you weren't going out to the sidewalk, you were going _up _stairs, right?"

"Right."

"So you must have been going to the roof."

He nodded again.

"Take me there," I said. "And can you talk in code to have your men change radio frequencies? And when they do, tell them to cover the roof exits."

To my surprise he simply said, "Ahhhh . . . brilliant!"

As we scurried through the corridors I got inundated with questions from reporters— "Where are you leading us?" "Do you know where Ace is?" "Is he all right?" "Are the Amazons hostile?"

In between their questions Ace's dad was shouting, "This is ridiculous!" "What are we doing!" "Where are we going?" "Is this the best you've got? Some smart aleck _kid_?" "What could she know?" "Who _i__s _she?"

I didn't answer anybody's questions. And Marissa had been whispering things to me, too, but I just shook my head and gave her a look that said, Cross your fingers that I'm right, okay? Which, of course, made her whisper, "You're not _sure_? Oh, Sammy, if you're wrong this is going to be _so _embarrassing."

I pulled another face and whispered, "Tell me about it."

When we got to the roof stairwell, though, I became a lot more sure. Ace's dad basically reared back and said, "Where does this lead? Why are we going in there?"

And while everyone else started to file into the stairwell, he hung back and flipped open his cell phone.

"Might as well give up calling your son," I said, leaning out the doorway. "You won't get any reception in here, believe me." I cocked my head. "So? Do you want to lead the way, or should I?"

The reporters clustered around. "What are you saying? That he abducted his own son?"

I headed up the steps. "Yup."

"I'll sue you for slander!" Ace's dad shouted from the back of the pack.

"Oh, please," I threw over my shoulder.

"But why would he do that?" one of the reporters asked.

"Because he wants his son to be the star, and it makes great press. I mean, what were your headlines going to read? 'Big, Big Fans Abduct Teen Idol!' 'Ace of Hearts Ambushed by Amazons!' Something like that, right?"

"I'm going to sue!" Ace's dad cried, coming up the stairs behind the reporters.

"If anyone wanted my son out of the way, it was those whiny moms—they never wanted my Ace to sing lead! Do you know how many times they tried to push him out? They're insecure because they know that Ace has more talent than both their sons combined!"

Now the truth is, I wasn't a hundred percent sure it was Ace's dad. And inside I was kinda sweating bullets because Marissa was right—this had serious embarrassment potential.

But I tried to act confident as I said, "Well wasn't it just so convenient that the Amazons showed up right after Ace had had his turn at singing? I mean there's great footage of _Ace _singing lead, but there's footage of _only _him singing lead. And it's not like an unknown band without a record contract is going to be able to pull together a publicity stunt like this again, so where's that leave the group? With Ace as lead on a promotional video. What better way of forcing a re-recording of the lead track?"

"Wait a minute," one of the reporters said. "The Boyz have no record contract?"

We were almost to the roof of the mall and Ace's dad had muscled his way through the reporters. He faced them and announced, "This is preposterous! You should be—"

And then, in that small space, in that tight stairwell, I got my proof.

"Aaaaaaahhhhhh!" I cried, fanning the air like crazy.

"Ooooooohhhh!" all the reporters wailed as the stink bomb enveloped them.

"Open the door!" Marissa shouted to the Guard Boss, and we all charged onto the roof, gasping for air.

So now I knew for sure I was right. Ace's dad was the only person who had been in all the stink-bomb locations.

Well, there _was _one other person—Marissa. What a joke that would have been on me, huh?

Anyway it didn't take long to find Ace. He was sunning himself in a lounger, with a big ice chest of food and cherry colas, a cell phone, and a walkie-talkie radio by his side.

The Amazons were there, too, and although they tried to escape, they couldn't because all the roof exits were guarded. And it was funny how discovering that they were trapped alsomade them rediscover English. "We're from the Large and Lovely Talent Agency!" they said.

"Why are you keeping us here—we didn't do anything _illegal _. . ."

"Oh, right!" the Guard Boss said, and when the Amazons realized they were going to be arrested for tying him up, they turned to Ace's dad and used their English skills in a very big and _colorful _way.

Afterwards, Vanessa invited Marissa and me to a backstage party, which I stayed for so Marissa could do some gushing and get some pictures. And that's where I got to explain to Marissa that it was mostly motive that pointed me toward Ace's dad, but it was also realizing that the Guard Boss could easily have mistaken Ace's dad's high-pitched voice for a woman's voice. Plus, there was the cherry cola."

"The cherry cola?" she asked.

"Remember how his dad came in with the soda can saying how he'd finally found a machine? Well, in the first place, he must have been gone for a while because he said finding the cherry cola wasn't easy, right?"

"But the guy from the record company was out in the halls, too."

"I know. But something about the cola can was bugging me, and I finally figured it out— Ace wiped a bunch of water off the top of it."

"So?"

"So a can that's been in a machine isn't wet like that."

Marissa's head went back like, Aaahhh. "It was in the ice chest."

"Exactly."

During the party we also found out that the whole scarves-on-the-mic-stands thing came from Toby being way into pirates. But according to Vanessa anyone could have stolen them— she said there was a big bag of them and nobody would ever have noticed if some were missing.

The best part, though, was finding out that everyone, including the Ponytail, thought Evan was the cutest thing to ever hit the stage. There's no doubt about it—he's, uh, _aced _the other guy right out of the group.

So I guess there's pushing, and then there's pushing too hard. Ace's dad pushed and pushed until his son was pushed right out of The Boyz. And we knew that Heather had pushed her way to the front of the crowd, but we found out later that she kept on pushing until she got pushed right out of the mall—by security.

I didn't need any pushing myself to leave the mall. I was more than happy to go. But Marissa got some great backstage photos, and I left with something even better—the Guard Boss's map of the mall. I saw one of the Amazons ditch it between exhaust fans on the roof, and when I fished it out and saw what it was, I slipped it in my pocket.

So now when Marissa drags me to the mall, I'll be ready.

Even if the mall's not ready for me.

The End


	9. Authors note

**-WARNING-_ Harsh _author's note below  
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**Author's note:**

**What the hell guys? Can you stop giving me shit about how I copied and pasted? Like seriously. In the first chapter, I explained why I had Wendelin's extra/bonus story on here. GO BACK AND READ IT AGAIN! Its at the TOP of CHAPTER 1, its in BOLD! Apparently, you guys missed it so I must go over the directions on how to spot a somewhat disclaimer because you guys didnt read it and are giving me shit for having it here. I'm so pissed off right now. Would I seriously copy and paste someone else's work here and try to pass it off as my own? I know you guys don't really know me, but Im saying this now, IM NOT THAT KIND OF GIRL! And this bullshit coming from you guys, my fanfiction readers/reviewers/supporters. Honestly, it hurts. Which is why Im being like this right now. I know you guys are trying to help by telling me that I could get in trouble for this, but I didnt pass it off as my own. I just copied and pasted, and WROTE A DISCLAIMER that coincidently, ALL OF YOU GUYS COMPLETELY MISSED! I had good intentions for posting it. So please, go back and read the top of the first chapter, mentally say, 'Ohhhhhhhh.' And then get back to me. -.- Thats all.**


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